Maggot always gets his man…
Wherever they go.
However far they flee.
However cunningly they hide…
Maggot enters The Old George: legendary menagerie of care-worn dreamers. This evening’s vibrantly clad gathering part to allow him to the bar. His ‘thirties’ hat and summer rain-coat are still the heir to respect even in a place of ghosts.
Curious location for a meet.
Maggot never questions his sources: the food and drink of his success.
Maggot takes a corner table.
Out in the street the night is glowing gold.
Later… when he is moved,
a tuft of pink-and-blue falls from his neck.